


Paint (my soul alive once more)

by Velerian



Series: Kinkmeme prompts [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, I Believe in Sherlock Holmes, Prompt Fic, Spray paint campaign
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 20:06:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velerian/pseuds/Velerian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a short written right after the last episode after a prompt from the kink meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paint (my soul alive once more)

 She saw one the day after His Fall. The bold black lines criss crossing in jagged lines where he fell just 26 hours before (she counted) formed the impossible words:

 

I BELIEVE IN SHERLOCK HOLMES

 

Molly couldn't put a name on the up-well of feelings this brought her, flowing from the pit of her stomach into her head, making her dizzy with nausea and horrified delight. She had performed the autopsy on the John Doe Sherlock had procured for their deception 17 hours before, and someone had scribbled the best condolences possible on the pavement before her.

 

By the week's end, she had been moved out of her flat, packed up by strange men in posh suits, and shipped to Cardiff of all places on Mycroft Holmes' orders. There were no tags there, no RICK BROOK WAS A FAKE or NO DOUBT SHERLOCK littered the ground or buildings on her way to her new position in the University hospital.

 

It wasn't a bad job at all. The pay was amazing (she suspected Holmes had arranged that as a strange, Holmesian thank-you for saving his brother), and her commute was short, but Molly would spend most of her nights perusing the internet for signs like those she saw in London. All the people he helped. All those crazy fans of John's blog. They were pulling together in an ungainly but beautiful way, like a newborn colt taking it's first step.

 

She made a Tumblr account solely to follow Sherlock Holmes and IbelieveinSherlock tags, and it was amazing to watch it spread. Soon London was carpeted with graffiti, and it was only spreading. One year exactly after His Fall, she decided to try her hand at it, to bring Sherlock into Cardiff, to make people remember him and change their minds about him as he fought to clear his name.

 

Molly didn't choose the now iconic yellow spray paint most 'professionals' would use. Instead she chose grey, the colour of his eyes under the mortuary lights when he flogged cadavers and flirted with her for the odd body part. It was subtle enough not to be noticed quickly and stamped out. If she were a colour, Molly would rather be an unassuming grey than a dramatic and brilliantly mad yellow.

 

Molly kept the can in her purse the entire day, looking for the perfect place to leave her mark. On her way back from work in the early morning, precisely twenty minutes before the anniversary, she picked out an abandoned building, already covered in art (she couldn't bear to call it vandalism or graffiti any more, not when she could see everyone's lives returning slowly to normal because of it).

 

She thought about John's blog, how it had been completely dead for months before he simply wrote “Saw the best thing in the world at Baker Street today,” and put a picture of 221B, covered in flowers and signs that boldly proclaimed NO DOUBT, SHERLOCK. She hadn't been allowed to keep in touch with any of them except through John's blog, which did not disappoint. He wrote the sad tale of Lestrades' humiliating dismissal, Donovan's demotion, and Mycroft's failing diet (because he may use pseudonyms now, but she could pick each of them out with ease).

 

Pulling out the can without even bothering to check for police, she started to draw out her statement, curling the letters and joining the words in her own eclectic cursive. It was a little hard to read, perhaps, but she though she did rather admirably for her first time. She slipped the can back into her purse and went on her way.

 

That night, she idly checked her dash, wondering what new antics were going on in her beloved London. There, reblogged a staggering 123,513 times was a picture of grey letters, struggling to be seen in a sea of colour:

 

Sherlock Lives-MH

 

Molly Hooper smiled.


End file.
